A Moony Night
by Shin'tet
Summary: The night three friends bring the fourth of their group out of his self-imposed monthly exile and show him that, even if he is werewolf, he isn't alone. OneShot!


**A Moony Night**

 **Chaser 1 Prompt:** Write about your opposing Chaser 1's favourite pairing/character. ( _Sirius/Remus_ or _Sirius_ ). I chose Sirius.

 **Optional Chaser Prompts:**

2\. (restriction) No using the word "because"

11\. (emotion) pride

15\. (word) bittersweet

 **AN:** I went a little AU in this story by having Remus using the Wolfsbane, meaning in this story it'd have been created before his time at Hogwarts. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this story. I've never given Sirius' character or, frankly, any of the Marauders characters a whole lot of consideration. Not out of dislike, they were just kind of uninteresting to me and I think it reflects a little in the… subpar feel of this story. But maybe it's just me. I give thanks and cyber cookies to **Sehanine** , **CorvusDraconis** , and "the amazing **Moka-girl** " for volunteering as my betas this round.

* * *

 _The moon was high as the gentle wind swept across the dark grounds of Hogwarts, which seemed to cause the usually stoic Whomping Willow to sway in enjoyment, like a child feeling its mother's caress._

 _Suddenly, two figures—a dog and a stag—raced from the shadow of the Hogwarts castle, straight for the notoriously cranky tree._

 _The pair stopped a respectable distance away from the Whomping Willow, aware of the tree's violent and vigilant nature as well as the range of its hefty branches and lash-like twigs._

 _Padfoot, the canine, looked to his taller ungulate companion and gave a whuff._

 _A hard-to-notice rodent had hitchhiked atop the stag's back. It scurried down his friend's flank and dropped to the grass below. Wormtail stealthily made his way to the base of the tree, whereupon he pressed his little paw to a small knot on the trunk._

 _The Whomping Willow stiffened, and Padfoot and his antlered friend, Prongs, rushed to the roots of the tree where a hidden entrance would lead to the fourth member of their ragtag group._

* * *

Nothing could compare to being a dog! It freed me in a way I'd never felt before, even when I had first come to Hogwarts, away from my wretched family, and even when I would get away with pranks right under the noses of the Hogwarts staff. As a dog I could lose myself in the instincts of pure happiness and curiosity if I wanted to.

The vibrant senses took some getting used to. Smell alone was practically overwhelming at first and took forever to adjust to. Worse, James and Peter made it a competition to get the biggest assortment of bad-smelling things they could find to "help with identifying smells" despite my vehement protests. Prats. Remus, however, made it a point to gather more useful objects for me to sniff. None of those included feminine unmentionables, I'd jokingly complain.

Then there was the change in human to canine vision! It seemed like everything had been put under colour-changing charms—mostly yellows, blues and violets. I could actually see things differently than as a human, especially at night. There was also the hearing, which wasn't as altered as smell and sight, but it was quite a welcome increase to my senses. I was able to listen in on conversations from the boys' dormitories to the Gryffindor common room.

All of the preparation and research, the meditation, the adjusting and the practice we had done to become Animagi took over a year to do in total. On top of that, there was the schoolwork, our to-do list of prankster activities and projects, and, well, the leisure time. We couldn't possibly forget about the leisure time! Psh.

After all of that, we were finally ready to join Remus in what had come to be known as the Shrieking Shack, where he spent his nights alone as a werewolf every full moon. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone about his hideout, or what happened there, but we had discovered his furry little secret early on. Disappearing on the night of every full moon? Coming back with an assortment of wounds you couldn't explain? Please. We're not idiots. Well, usually we're not idiots. Ok, sometimes we're rampaging imbeciles, but we have our merits too! Taking care of Remus, for example, was definitely one of our more considerate friend duties.

It depressed even me to think about how it must have made my friend feel. He probably felt like he would never be accepted in society if others found out about his werewolf status. That was mostly why James, Peter and I made our way into the passageway below the Whomping Willow. Of course, being Gryffindors we couldn't resist an adventure tinged with some danger. We'd also never seen Moony's werewolf form before, so curiosity played no small part. Not even the prospect of death and maiming stopped the Marauders.

The earthy floor was cold and dry with the occasional root or loose rock. Nothing my padded paws and enhanced senses couldn't handle. I had taken the rear with Wormtail on my shoulders now. Prat probably wanted to be the first to scram out of the Shack in case things got dicey, not that I blamed him. An uncontrolled werewolf was one of those creatures that everyone and their mother agreed was best avoided rather than confronted.

Prongs' white and black tuft of tail caught my eyes with its occasional flick as we trotted along. The urge to play skyrocketed, and I gave a little leap to snap at it while giving a few loud barks, which caused Prongs to give a startled grunt. He turned back to glare at me while I had my front bowed low and my rear held high.

My tail wagged incessantly as I waited a few moments to see if Prongs would move so I could give chase. He didn't, he just snorted at me before turning forward and lifting his head high, only to knock his antlers into the ceiling.

Giving another couple of amused barks, my tongue slipped out to pant.

Prongs gave a low grunt before I lunged forward and shot between his four legs. I made a sound of impudence as I cleared out from under him and heard him startle again. He delivered an angry trumpeting and charged after me, to my delight. If he wouldn't give me something to chase, then I'd give him one!

I felt poor Peter clinging onto my fur for dear life as his chosen ride had become quite unstable. His shrill, protesting squeaks only added to the energetic fun.

Prongs was gaining on me with a panting, irritated bleat. I could feel his hooves vibrating through the ground, and it spurred me on with a boost at the very thought of being trampled.

I dared a look behind me to see Prongs only feet away from me with his head lowered, eyes wide with rage, and those intimidating antlers aimed right at my bum! Suddenly, I wasn't having fun anymore, and I gave a few panicked yelps as I faced forward in the vain hope of finding cover to d—" _DOOR!_ "

* * *

Being a werewolf was truly a curse. There were no positives to be had, no enhanced senses, strength, or reflexes while in human form.

Ever since I had been bitten, I'd had a sickly cast to me, most likely due to resisting the monster I became on every night with a full moon. Not that I was in any way in control of myself. I had myself locked away, unable to terrorize and kill people and animals, which seemed to affect my normal health a little.

Of course, things changed when I was allowed to attend Hogwarts, thanks to the headmaster, who had a great sense of sympathy. At Hogwarts, I was given access to the Wolfsbane Potion, which allowed me to control myself, though it tasted terrible, and was also given access to an isolated spot to stay during my monthly transformations.

It was still bittersweet in a way, as I lay in the Shrieking Shack. Being in control of myself was truly a blessing, but it would have been nice to let loose and run instead of being cooped up in a small building all night. I had never been able to sleep when I was transformed and I could only speculate as to the reason.

I had expected to always be an outcast, but to my surprise, I had actually made some friends at Hogwarts—real friends. They discovered my true nature in our second year, and it didn't change our friendship at all. If anything, our friendship deepened. I had only had one regret in the two years since. That regret was the day, in our Third Year, when Sirius had lured a Slytherin student to my monthly prison. I had eventually forgiven him for this childish and thoughtless action, but Severus' hatred of the Marauders had never been more palpable since.

My ears twitched as I heard an odd and distant noise. I rose from the nest of blankets I had made and loped down the stairs, heading over to the entrance of the shack.

" _My friends must be on their way,_ " I thought happily, feeling a bit of pride.

James, Sirius, and Peter had gone to further lengths for our friendship than I had ever expected they would. They'd decided to become Animagi so that they could visit me here, safe from the infectious bites I was capable of giving. Becoming an Animagus was no small feat, especially for students below Seventh Year.

I could hear the sound of hooves and Padfoot, whose barks had turned to fearful yelping… They approached, and I was surprised to realize that they were not slowing down. My hackles rose, thinking something was wrong. Maybe they were being chased by someone?

Backing away from the door to give myself some space, I winced when something hit it with quite a bit of force. I heard the scrabbling of paws over the rapidly rising sound of skidding hooves. " _That must be Prongs…_ "

I flinched as the entire threshold shuddered under the momentous weight of a large animal crashing into it. The door probably would have come off its hinges if not for the enchantments that would keep even me from tearing through it.

I hurried to the door once more, sniffing at the gap separating it from the floor, and gave a whine of concern.

* * *

So, Padfoot might have touched a nerve with his doggish antics, but I had not really had the intention of running him through. I had just wanted to give him a scare, which had succeeded well enough… I just didn't think it would take so long to slow down to a stop.

Seeing Padfoot ram the door to the Shrieking Shack had been hilarious for a split second until I had realized I had still been going too fast to avoid the same fate. Luckily, he'd had had enough wits about him to quickly move out of my path.

I was sitting on my haunches, a little dazed and bruised from the impact, but not injured. I heard Padfoot sneeze at the dust we had stirred up, before he started to bound around me, apparently having the energy for another go. I sighed.

I got up to shake myself and heard a whine from the other side of the door, as well as a scratching noise. I eyed it a little nervously. I could smell the unnatural scent of wolf and human mixed into one. My animal instincts were insisting that I run back the way from which we'd come.

Padfoot trotted to the door sniffing and wagging his tail in happiness and curiosity. All of sudden, I realized Wormtail wasn't where I'd seen him clinging onto during my charge. I looked around frantically. It took a few seconds before I spotted him a couple of feet behind me, lying on his back. I stepped over to him and nosed his body, relieved.

" _There's no blood and he's breathing. He must have abandoned ship and gotten clear of my stampeding._ "

One of Wormtail's hind legs twitched, kicking out, before he rolled over and stood on shaky legs. He gave me an accusing squeak.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. " _He's fine._ "

I heard the door click open and turned to see that Padfoot had managed to lower the handle with his paws. It was enchanted to only prevent a transformed werewolf from opening it.

As the door swung open, it revealed a thin and gangly creature with a coat of fur between silver and grey. It was built like a wolf, except the limbs were longer and the back was more hunched than horizontal. It was Moony.

* * *

" _Wicked_ ," I thought, my tail still wagging.

Moony was a bit taller than I was on all fours and seemed to be waiting for the shoe to drop. I resisted the canine compulsion to sniff Moony's bum. Alas, I failed.

Moony simply tilted his head at me.

I sneezed before pouncing on him. " _When in doubt, gambol about!_ "

Moony toppled backwards, limbs flailing. I landed on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. I escaped before he could make a grab for me. I scanned for a place to run.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much room for gamboling. " _Honestly, how's Moony supposed to enjoy himself in a cooped-up shack?_ " Then, I spotted the entrance and Prongs, tentatively poking his head in, and I got an epiphany. Had I still had my eyebrows, one would have been cocked.

" _We can get past the Whomping Willow again and go to the Forbidden Forest! We'd probably be the first students to explore i—"_ I yelped when Moony bowled me to the floor and pinned me.

Moony's paws pressed me down and I noticed dripping, slimy drool descending on my face.

I attempted to avoid the descending slime by straining my head away from it. When that didn't work, I started tossing and turning to try and push Moony off with my hind legs.

" _That's uncalled for! You'll not strip my dignity with werewolf drool!_ " Of course, my protests came out in rather unintelligible barks and grunts.

He only leaned closer, and there was only one thing I could do. I had to yield. I whined in defeat and bared my throat. " _There, dominance asserted, you furry berk._ "

Moony gave a satisfied huff and got off, allowing me scramble to my feet and shake off any drool that might be on my coat. I then started urgently nudging him towards Prongs and freedom and barked excitedly. " _Come on, you great beast! Let's go outside! Time to RUN!_ "

After some hesitation, Moony's reluctance crumbled and we raced past Prongs, who had moved out of the way and taken the lead.

I found Wormtail as Moony and I exited the shack and held him gently between my teeth to place him upon my back once more. Finally, we were off.

* * *

 _The dog, stag, and their inconspicuous hanger-on returned from the lone tree not long after entering it, bringing with them a friend._

 _First hesitant when stepping under the direct light of the moon, the cursed-yet-blessed one quickly finds his sureness. And so, the four marauders ran across the field, towards a forest. They were under the vigilant but strangely pleased eyes of one of the wardens of the forest._

 _From a hill overlooking the treeline, the centaurian hunter watched as the rambunctious younglings disappeared into the wood before looking up to the clear and twinkling heavens and smiling._

" _The moon brings more than change this night," he said, cryptically._


End file.
